


The Promise

by Grovehove



Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Kidnapping, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grovehove/pseuds/Grovehove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bran Cornick was a hard man to find. She had travelled a long long way to keep a promise. She was stubborn and detemined and on a mission. He would be found and dealt with. Then she would be free to carry on with the rest of her life</p><p>Or : A tail (yes it is a pun, I like puns, I like them a lot) of Werewolves and a welsh girl,<br/>motorbikes and menace. Ranting and raving, lunacy and laughs. </p><p>That's just the opening two paragraphs...this is a mystery wrapped in an enigma because I really don't know what I am doing with this one but its making me laugh and is fun to write and I hope you will like it too. Besides which Bran Cornick is fascinating and needs to get out more...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This was insane. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Her grandmother had so much to answer for

" _Mamgu if you weren't dead already..."_  she threatened with total sincerity.

She was half way across the world from safety, sanity and sense because of a promise to an evil twisted old bag on her deathbed.

That bloody woman had manipulated her through life and she was still doing it in death. God she missed the cantankerous old cow so much it hurt, physically hurt.

A book and a letter. She had to deliver a book and a letter to a distant relative, distant both geographically and metaphorically. She'd never heard of the old sod, she'd never heard of the god forsaken place and she had only managed to find it on one local map since she had got here.

She had left her Welsh home and flown to the Land of the Free. She had travelled for days on the motorbike she had ended up having to buy because she was too young to hire it. And that was just the beginning of the insanity that was now her life.

The motorbike was a thumb to the nose for her grandmother. " _Those two wheels are too dangerous Ferched, use a car"_    
She could hear the cranky old voice in her head right now and she smirked " _Mamgu, you might be forcing me to do this but I will do it my way and sod the 4x4"_

She wouldn't admit it, but arriving in Montana was an eye-opener, it was cold for the love of God. No not cold, it was bitter and arctic and froze the breath in your lungs if you were stupid enought to breath in.  
  
As the temperature dropped and she saw snow on the high ground, her grandmother's sarcastic laughter rang through her head, and even if right then and there she would gladly have swapped her bike for a nice warm car, she would be damned before she'd actually do it and prove the old woman right.  
  
At least her legs and bum were warm on the bike, and if she considered it an adventure, then it was " _fun, fun, do you hear me you old mare, fun, fun, a fun adventure,_ " she shouted defiantly out into the driving wind.

" _Pride doesn't keep your flesh warm little Twpsyn_ " she could hear it, she could just bloody hear the response she'd have got. Her grandmother would have called her all kinds of fool. The old woman was so bloody stubborn, and hadn't she raised her granddaughter well, because by god so was she!

The ranting one sided conversation kept her so engrossed she nearly missed the pathetic feeble town sign, buried amongst the large trees and bushes on the side of the road, which indicated the turn off to the blasted elusive town, and she had to swing the bike round to come back to it. Luckily the road was not well travelled; she hadn't seen another vehicle for over two hours so she didn't cause an accident when she did her squealing u-turn.  
  
In fact she enjoyed that manoeuvre so much, she did it another three times just for the hell of it, and after laughing like an idiot for five minutes, she calmed down, stopped the bike by the nearly invisible sign and whispered at it, " _Thought you could fool me huh?"_  , which caused another few seconds of mad chuckling, until she scolded herself into a more serious frame of mind.

She was a welsh girl, finding this poky little town might have been an exercise in endurance for anyone else, but she had Celtic blood in her veins and been raised by a dragon fiercer that the one on her country's flag, and she knew how to traverse tiny country lanes with no signs, scary bends and savage wild life, like hungry agitated sheep with no road sense.  
  
The winding difficult forest trail, it was too damn small to be called a road, finally opened into what looked like a main road, and there was another pathetic little sign with the words Aspen Creek written in the smallest greyest font she had ever seen on a road sign. Well these people were really proud of their home weren't they? They wanted to shout it to the stars… not.

She pulled the bike to a stop outside what appeared to be a motel, it looked sad and careworn, but she didn't think she would have a problem getting a room. She hoped they had a restaurant or at least a bloody vending machine. She was hungry enough to start gnawing at her own fingers

She swung off the bike, removed the helmet and rubbed her hands wearily through the long chocolate brown curls which had tumbled down.

A yawn caught her unawares, as she noticed a little lad staring at her from the front of one of the shops, no, no they were called stores not shops. He looked to be about seven years of age; his hair was bright red, and his face a mass of freckles. His hazel eyes stared so solemnly at her, with the beginning of a frown that she couldn't resist the impulse.  
  
She felt the bubble of mischief rise again, and she crossed her own silver eyes and stuck out her tongue as far as it could go. Then she pulled it back with a snap, and curtsied gracefully at him, pretending to hold a wide skirt whilst she was in her dark bike leathers, and heavy boots.  
  
The little boy's eyes opened wide and he gave a merry laugh which made his solemn face look like a naughty gnome.  
She laughed back at him, but the laughter faded as a woman came out of the shop, glared at her suspiciously and drew the lad into the depths of the shop. No not shop, they call them stores. The logic of that particular word escaped her, you go to a shop to er shop, stores were for storing things, not buying things. Never mind it was making her head ache and she had other things to worry about if her insane butterfly mind woul let her.  
  
She looked at the main street, and the rows of silent.... stores. There seemed to be people in them but they weren't coming out. The silence was almost ominous. Oh for the love of…..unfriendly, rude and not Welsh. Bliss and Joy.

" _Okaaaay_ " she rolled her eyes, " _such a happy, happy place, thanks a bunch grandmother, I hope that cloud you are perched on is nice and fat and fluffy because if there is any justice St Peter has kicked your bony evil conniving old bum_."

She grabbed her stuff from the bike, and headed towards the motel.

Well what a surprise, the dingy reception was empty but at least she could see lots of available keys so there shouldn't be a problem getting a room in the dump.

She eyed the dull brass bell and then grinned wickedly as she pounded on it until a door was flung open and a very irritated middle aged woman came out to stand on the other side of the desk. She removed the bell and popped it into a drawer.

" _I'm afraid all our rooms are booked_ " the unsmiling dark haired woman stated coldly and turned to walk away again, but stopped in surprise at the rich chuckle that answered her words. She turned back to stare disconcertedly at the strange girl on the other side of the desk.

" _You towns people are so funny and full of merriment, you just love to tease and play little pranks don't you_ " the lilting voice laughed undeterred, " _I can see the keys from here"._

The woman stiffened with offence but before she could speak, the laughing voice continued  
  
" _I've come such a long way because of Aspen Creeks reputation for hospitality_ " the older woman blinked with confusion, as she stared into mocking silver eyes " _but in all honesty this charming, quaint friendly little town is already close to my heart as I have a relative here, one I am keen to visit as soon as possible"._

The merry accented voice continued " _Perhaps you know him, Bran Cornick, does he live near here?"_

The woman stared at her open mouthed for what seemed like a very long time and Haf resisted the urge to laugh again, then the woman snapped her mouth shut, turned and took down a set of keys from the shelf above her head, and pushed the registration book towards her.

She watched in silence as the young woman wrote in the book, looked at the number on the key and responded to the directions to the room, with a sweet satisfied smile.

She picked up her backpack and left the reception.

The woman slowly turned the register around so that she could read it. In big bold writing, she read " _Haf Cornick, Wales_ ".

Haf stood under the pathetic but warmish shower, trying to wash away the grime and the muscle pain from her long trip.

What a place, unfriendly inhabitants who either ignored her or looked at her as if she was nuts, ( well she couldn't really fault them for that one just lately!) or more scarily there were even a few that looked at her as if she was the chosen live lobster for the pot of boiling water.

She'd asked for him by name in the shops, no, stores, they were called stores, the ones she had visited after dumping her stuff in the room in the seedy motel. They had just given her uncooperative shrugs or a surly silence.

After the third store, she decided she was too tired to argue the toss, a good night's rest and in the morning she would set this place on its ears. Tomorrow was another day and the sooner she found her shy, reclusive, retiring old darling of a relative, gave him the stuff as she had promised her manipulative twisty sneaky con artiste grandmother, the sooner she could sod off out of this cold miserable unhappy surly dingy dank dump and go home.  
  
If she could get this sorted soon, she might be able to take a short holiday in the sun, on a sandy beach with a blue blue sea, with some local hunky talent to take her mind off her troubles.  
Then she had an appointment at the University of her choice ( _my choice Mamgu, mine_ ), to commence the undergraduate degree of her choice in the not too distant future.  
  
She just had to sort this mess first. She had promised her grandmother and she would bloody get it done.

" _God bless you Mamgu for forcing me to do this. What about my worthless, workshy, witless cousins you old harridan"_

She muttered aloud to herself as she showered in the pitifully small bathroom.

 _"Oh look running luke warmish water all for me. Woo-hoo, all the mod-cons, what more could a stressed out grieving Welsh Teenager ask for! A bloody lot more Mamgu and none of it anywhere near this dump."_  
  
She knew this prolonged conversation with her dead grandmother was perhaps not something most people would consider normal but to be honest she didn't care. If she was going to turn into a nutjob then she would do it her way so there, and it was oddly comforting because she missed her so bloody much.

She pulled on the surprisingly large motel towelling bathrobe, it nearly wrapped its way around her twice. What size were the "normal" customers in this place? Bloody land of the giants.

She began to towel dry her hair as she opened the bathroom door and headed towards the bed to get her clothes. She still need to find somewhere to eat, her stomach was beginning to think her throat was cut. As she reached the bed, and picked up her brush she threw the towel down, bent her head and flung her wild wet curls back in order to brush her long hair into some semblance of order. Did this rancid boil on the devil's bum of a motel even have a hairdryer?

As her head came back, she opened her eyes to see a roomful of people regarding her steadily. She shrieked with fright and leapt back, tumbling over the side of the bed, tangled in the over large dressing gown and landed with a thump and a yelp as she disappeared from view.

There was a stunned silence, then a string of juicy welsh swear words floated up from behind the bed.

" _Impressive Da, she hasn't repeated herself once_ " was the cool comment in the same language from the tall dark haired man, to the smaller sandy haired one besides him as they heard a graphic but anatomically inaccurate description of where the girl thought it was appropriate for them to insert their own heads.

Her tousled head came up over the side of the bed, silver eyes glittering with rage, through the wild wet curls

" _What is wrong with you people? Haven't you ever heard of knocking? Or using the phone, you know that thing in the corner?"_

The slender muscular woman standing besides the tall dark haired man giggled before she could stop herself, and Haf looked at her in disbelief, as the dark haired man admonished calmly  _"Anna"_

She struggled to get to her feet, that bloody robe still tangling in her toes, and finally took a good look at the" roomful of people", god this room was so small that three people could make it look full, even though the big man was well, big, the woman had a presence that seemed to throw out warmth and the other man, was so inconspicuous as to be suspicious.

The gently smiling woman named Anna moved towards her, slowly, offering a takeout cup with the most delicious smelling coffee, with the air of a silent apologetic peace offering.

Haf's mouth watered suddenly, she was starving, a cup of coffee would be a god send right now, and these idiots owed her for scaring her spit-less. She tilted her head, looked down at the mug, looked back at the woman, hesitated for a second as her natural caution asserted itself, but there was something so calming and kind about the woman, it clicked the off button on her distrust and she accepted it with a polite thank you.

She wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, she was hungry and thirsty. She took a deep swallow of the deliciously hot liquid, nectar, but her attention did not leave the two men standing in front of her.

Haf smiled sweetly, as she sipped, it made her look like a ruffled angel, then carefully put the cup down on the night stand and said with cheerful venom

" _One of you numpty's had better be Bran Cornick or I won't be responsible for my actions"_

The pretty woman actually laughed out loud at that, the tall man growled but the other man put a hand on his arm, which seemed to settle him down and his steadfast regard had filled with amusement.

" _I'm Bran Cornick_ " his pleasant voice admitted " _this is Charles and Anna, and I believe you are Haf Cornick"._ Before he could continue, he was interrupted.

" _Yes"_

The three of them stared at her in bewilderment as she suddenly pumped her arm in the air in triumph, the mockingly sweet smile turned into a blindingly pleased one and she spun round, reached over the bed, ripped open her back pack and pulled out a brown paper package.

All three had stiffened instinctively at her sudden actions.

She spun back round and walked towards him with the package, happily muttering.

" _There you are, I have witnesses, I am giving the stuff to him you old harridan_ "

Anna looked at her with concern and asked soothingly " _Who are you talking to?"_

The girl looked at her with a wide grin, " _My dead grandmother_ ". She just repressed the urge to laugh at the older woman's expression and turned to face the smaller bland man again.

" _Here it's all yours, she made me promise to bring them to you, and I have kept my promise, so I can go home now. Tomorrow in fact, I can go home tomorrow_ "

She burbled happily, almost dizzy with glee, totally disregarding the frowns she was receiving. She still held the parcel in her hand, as no-one made to take it off her.

" _Haf_ " Anna began carefully as if she was worried about her reaction. There was a dramatic sigh

" _No I haven't lost my marbles, My dying grandmother made me promise on her deathbed to bring that, it's a letter and a book to her long lost relative Bran Cornick I have spent the last three months and most of my savings including buying that stupid bike trying to track you down. And I have. I didn't know if Bran Cornick was male, female, flora or fauna, but here you are you lovely man. Now it's done, I'm done and I can go home, so unless you brought something to eat with you because I am bloody starving, why don't you just  kindly and with all due respect, sod off and take that damned accursed parcel with you"_

The last part of the sentence was almost obliterated by an enormous yawn, as she collapsed back onto the bed and frowned at her uncooperative legs and then looked back at them with tired confusion. She blinked in surprise, looked at the mug in sudden comprehension, then back at the three people still calmly staring at her and hissed through her teeth, her silver eyes promising retribution

" _You are so going to cop it, you utter bast..."_  and then flopped backwards, her eyes closing and heard the words the woman spoke before she lost consciousness.

" _I'm sorry Haf_  "Anna said kindly but firmly " _until we know what this is all about, you won't be going anywhere"_

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran Cornick was in his study reading enjoying the peace and quiet, enjoying the simple pleasure of being alone and only having himself to please when he received the first call about the mysterious biker.
> 
> Or how Bran met a drug fuelled insane biker and evil children’s entertainer who was also a long lost welsh relative.
> 
> Bran's point of view

Bran Cornick was in his study reading enjoying the peace and quiet, enjoying the simple pleasure of being alone and pleasing himself when he received the first call about the mysterious biker.

Tag had been near the highway and noticed a biker heading towards Aspen Creek,

A biker whose behaviour was strange and possibly drug fuelled, arguing with himself, performing idiotic manoeuvres on the main highway, then talking to the sign and laughing like a crazy person, before setting off on the route to the town.

It was the biker’s behaviour, which had prompted the call; the townsfolk were more than capable of dealing with unwanted tourists, but drugs meant danger, outsiders and intrusion to their life.

Bran had thanked Tag politely for the call, not sure if he was more irritated at being interrupted or intrigued by the idiotic behaviour, on balance irritated was more likely as it was probably a drug fuelled fool who would have to be dealt with. 

The next call was from Marta Sykes, old Remy’s granddaughter and a mother herself now to that little redheaded imp Jake. Apparently the biker chick, and it was a girl, (how Tag had missed that little fact would be fodder for teasing the next time he turned up looking for a free meal from Bran), had dared to make little Jake laugh before his brave mother had got him to safety.  

The third call was from Lisa Stoval at the motel, and was the most intriguing of all; the biker had demanded a room with menaces and then claimed kinship with Bran, even signing her surname as Cornick. Her first name was Haf, the welsh word for summer, and her address had simply been one word, Wales.  

The fourth call was from Charles, and before he could say a word his father said “ _Room 18 at the motel, bring Anna and some nice relaxing coffee_.”

His son sighed with amusement, “ _I don’t suppose you would actually allow me to deal with this by myself Da?_ ” he asked resignedly, already knowing the answer.

His father just chuckled darkly  “ _Miss out on an long lost welsh relative who is a drug fuelled insane biker and evil children’s entertainer…how can I resist?_ ” 

Carl Stoval, Lisa's husband handed him the skeleton key and told them with a grin that the menace had just returned from her tour of the town, asking questions about her relative Bran, and not getting any answers from anyone.   
As they walked to the room, Anna asked with a sigh why they couldn’t just talk to the girl and find out what was going on.   
  
Bran smiled at her gently “ _But that’s what we are going to be doing Anna_ ” he said _“Yes but only after we..”_ she began

Charles looked at his mate in gentle warning and she rolled her eyes at him, unimpressed.

This was so not a good idea but they were determined to do it.  

They had made their way to her room, number 18, the one which was furthest away from the safe room and away from the road, and heard the shower going.   
Bran used the pass key to enter the small room. Lisa had made sure she didn’t get the most comfortable or largest room in the place, he thought with dry humour.

Their enhanced hearing picked out the words she was grumbling aloud to herself through the sound of the shower   
“ _God bless you Mamgu for making me be the one to do this. What about my worthless, work shy witless cousins you old Harridan”_

Anna really couldn’t help herself, she chuckled quietly. The girl sounded young, tired and so incredibly pissed off.

_“Woohoo, all the mod cons, luke warm water, what more could a stressed out grieving welsh teenager ask for!”_   Then she answered her own question in a louder aggrieved voice

  _“A_ _bloody lot more Mamgu and none of it anywhere near this dump”_  

Charles looked at his father with a raised eyebrow; both Anna and his father could see how amused he was, but anyone else would not see anything on his impassive face.  

The shower came to a stop and they heard her moving about muttering something about “ _the land of the giants_ ” and “ _mega huge enormous stupid bathrobes_ ”, when the door was suddenly flung open and a figure enveloped in towelling from head to toe emerged and headed towards the bed, rubbing vigorously at her head.

As she reached the bed she threw the head towel down and there was a mass of wild wet dark curls, which covered her head and shoulders. She reached for the brush lying in the bed, dipped her head and flung her hair back with such force that drops of water splattered across the faces of the three people watching her.

As her head came back, and she spun round to the mirror, they saw her startled silver eyes stare straight at them; her shriek of fright pierced their sensitive hearing as they watched her tumble helplessly backwards and she disappeared over the end of the bed to land out of sight with a thump and a yelp.

Anna barely restrained herself from laughing, Bran’s eyes were dancing with glee, his breath coming out in snorts and the impassive Charles had to bite his lip to stop the deep chuckles that threatened to roll out of his mouth without his permission.

There was a stunned silence and then a string of juicy welsh swear words floated up from behind the bed.

Charles found his voice first “ _Impressive Da, she hasn’t repeated herself once_ ” he commented coolly to his father in welsh as  they heard a graphic but anatomically inaccurate description of where the girl thought it was appropriate for them to insert their own heads.   
Anna was amazed at how he kept his composure, she wasn’t sure she could actually speak at the moment without having hysterics in the corner. Even the legendary Marrok had to bite his lip to stop the threatening laughter and retain his bland non-threatening appearance. 

Her tousled dishevelled head popped up over the side of the bed, those startling silver eyes glittering with rage peering through the riotous luxurious wet curls.

“ _What is wrong with you people? Haven’t you ever heard of knocking? Or using the phone, you know that thing in the corner?”_

The rage thrumming through her voice made the lilting accent sound even more like she was singing.

It was so pretty thought Anna as a giggle finally burst out and Charles chided her gently by name

They watched her struggle to her feet wrapped in the miles of towelling, her struggle to retain her dignity added fuel to her fury. Her blazing eyes daring one of them to laugh at her.

Anna decided it was time to get things over and done with, so she smiled sweetly at disgruntled young woman, and offered her the coffee she had been carefully carrying with her. They all watched as the girl reacted predictably to the omega’s soothing and calming smile and she took the coffee with a sweet grin and a polite thank you. The fact that the girl was also very hungry no doubt also influenced her acceptance. The three wolves could smell her hunger and her incipient exhaustion.

She took a deep swallow of the coffee, and hummed with pleasure. Anna had made sure at the very least, the taste would be delicious. But she didn’t take her eyes off the two men in front of her. She smiled sweetly as she sipped; it made her look like a ruffled angel, then she carefully deposited the cup on the night stand and remarked with cheerful venom

“ _One of you numpty’s had better be Bran Cornick or I won’t be responsible for my actions”_

Amused Bran put a hand on his son’s arm when he heard the low growl, Anna laughed again. Charles tended to lose his sense of humour very quickly when it came to threats to his father, but Bran was enjoying this immensely. The girl seemed to have no concept of fear, well none that could get passed her extreme irritation at her grandmother and the task she had been assigned. She hadn’t even been frightened by Charles’s growl, only rolled her eyes at him, when any person with a lick of sense wolf or otherwise normally gave him a wide berth.  

“ _I’m Bran Cornick_ ” he admitted entertained “ _this is Charles and Anna, and I believe you are Haf Cornick”._ He was about to ask her the obvious question when he was interrupted, as she suddenly pumped her arm in the air in triumph, shouting “Yes” and her mocking smile turned into a genuine one before she turned on her heel, reached over the bed, and pulled out a brown paper package from her backpack. 

He could feel the intensity of the stares now focused on the girl, each inner wolf had tensed up at the suddenness and unexpected nature of her actions. She wasn’t considered a true threat yet but they were now also taking an interest in the girl, and were reserving judgement. It was possible that the girl was now in more danger than she had ever been before in her life.  

She turned back to them, and he could see that half her thoughts were elsewhere and she moved towards him to try to hand him the package. He could also hear that her thoughts were elsewhere as she was happily muttering.

“ _There you are, I have witnesses, I am giving the stuff to him you old harridan_ ”  

His gentle and kind daughter-in-law Anna looked at the girl with concern, her amusement gone as if driven away by the girl’s strange behaviour and she asked in that soothing omega voice “ _Who are you talking to?”_  

The girl seemed to recognise the fact that she had spooked them, and gave her a wide grin, “ _My dead grandmother_ ”. She uttered succinctly and now Bran began to wonder if she was playing the “don’t hurt me I’m a fruitcake” card. He saw her stop herself from laughing and she then turned to face him again. The delight in her face was genuine. He became more intrigued by the minute.  

 “ _Here it’s all yours, she made me promise to bring them to you, and I have kept my promise, so I can go home now. Tomorrow in fact, I can go home tomorrow_ “

She babbled almost dizzy with happiness and relief, and totally ignoring the frowns being sent her way from Charles and Anna. He made sure he didn’t take the parcel from her hand and he had silently neither his son nor his wife did so either.  

“ _Haf_ ” Anna began carefully as if she was worried about her reaction. The girl gave a dramatic sigh worthy of a death scene in Shakespeare.

“ _No I haven’t lost my marbles, My dying grandmother made me promise on her deathbed to bring that, it’s a letter and a book to her long lost relative Bran Cornick  I have spent the last three months and most of my savings including buying that stupid bike trying to track you down. And I have. I didn’t know if Bran Cornick was male, female, flora or fauna, but here you are you lovely man. Now it’s done, I’m done  and I can go home, so unless you brought something to eat with you because I am bloody starving, with all due respect why don’t you just sod off and take that damned parcel with you. I never want to see the bloody thing again”_

On the last part of the speech, she yawned, and flopped down on to the bed. He was very impressed with her, she made the connection almost immediately, she frowned at the cup and her legs and then she focused her wrathful glare on the three of them.

She spat at them like an angry kitten and collapsed backwards before she could finish calling them names.  “ _You are so going to cop it, you utter bast...”_

He wasn’t sure if she heard Anna’s words before she was unconscious, but it didn’t matter, she was staying with them until Bran allowed her to leave. There were too many variables in the situation that needed to be dealt with, and to be honest this was the most entertaining thing that had happened to them all for a good few years.   
The lunatic child even made Charles laugh; he should keep her for a few years just for that alone. Charles didn’t get to laugh enough, although he was better now Anna was with him but he was pretty sure that Charles’ lovely omega wife would try to extract his manhood with a plastic spoon if he voiced that thought.

This was going to be interesting. He quirked a smile

He looked down at the oblivious unconscious girl,

“ _Welcome to the family Haf Cornick”_ he muttered with a rich dark chuckle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy chapter two, obviously same scene but from Bran’s POV.
> 
> Please read and review, would love to hear your thoughts and any guidance if in or out of character. Thanks
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine no infringement intended, only having fun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haf wakes up and Anna is not amused... much. Bran Bran the pancake man and Charles is silent sexy and brooding.  
> Are there really Leprechauns?

 

Haf opened her eyes slowly, allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the light. She lay there feeling boneless and as if her brain had detached from her head and was floating about in space laughing like a loon at her prone, pathetic, pitiful person.

It was an odd feeling but she seemed to be insulated from everything, not even worrying about feeling odd, and she did feel very, very odd. She lay there not attempting to move, just allowing her eyes to roam the room with a sort of fake yet real indifference. Hell’s Bells she felt weird, and where in the name of those Bells from Hell was she?

It wasn’t the motel room but she was too spaced to care. It was sparsely furnished but what was there looked comfortable and homey. There was a hard wood floor with a couple of patterned rugs. On the opposite side of the room, a large wooden bookcase complete with many books seemed to buttress the wall against the ceiling. The walls of the bedroom were painted a soothing green and they all appeared to be undulating gently while she lay there, it really was a very strange feeling, almost like being on one of the caterpillar rides on the fairground but at a fraction of the speed. Not fast enough to make her nauseous but definitely too quick for her to trust herself to move yet.   
The bed she was on was bloody huge but very low to the floor. Idle thoughts rattled through her uncaring head; that maybe the bed’s owners had a fear of heights or were regularly drunk, so being lower to the ground meant less pain when they fell out of bed.

She was distracted from those rambling images when she noticed that everything, literally everything was in shades of green. Light was coming through the half closed wooden blinds at the large picture window and they were tinted green too.

Perhaps she was in the lair of a leprechaun she thought with a sudden surprising snigger. The spooky calmness began to drift away and her brain was starting to fight to get back into her head again and make sense.

 

In the kitchen Anna was polishing off the pancakes her father-in-law had made for them. She and Charles had woken up to the smell of the breakfast cooking, she had nuzzled her husband and Charles had murmured sleepily “Da” and then pulled her back into his arms for a thoroughly satisfying good morning kiss before they had both showered, dressed and after a quick look in their spare room at their sleeping guest, made their way to the kitchen. Charles had studied his father blandly as he was puttering about putting the finishing touches to the large breakfast that awaited them.

His lips quirked, his Da had always liked to cook, especially when he was intending it as an act of bribery. The mocking light in Charles eyes became more pronounced and one of his eyebrows took a life of its own and raised itself with sardonic precision which Anna envied to the depths of her soul. She would love to be able to pull off that look but had never quite managed it. Charles merely told her to practice for another couple of centuries and she would get there.

Anna and Charles knew that he knew that they were there and he knew that they knew that he knew they were there but for a long moment the silence in the kitchen was absolute and they could barely hear each other breath. Anna’s shrewd eyes moved from her father-in-law to her husband and she sighed gently, as she moved past her gorgeous husband stubbornly propping the kitchen door up and went to sit at the breakfast bar where she offered her father-in-law a sweet smile. As usual she addressed the elephant in the room rather than let the pair of them brood in silence.

“It will take some time for the sedative to leave her system” Anna murmured noncommittally trying to change the oddly charged silence into something more normal. Well as normal as it got when there were werewolves chatting and the topic of conversation was their kidnapping of a non werewolf teenage girl, Anna thought ruefully.

Charles grunted, displeasure obvious in his voice “You should have just left it to me Da” Anna raised her eyes to the heavens and shook her head with a no nonsense snort as the two male Cornicks tried to outstare each other until Bran looked at his son with one eyebrow fluttering above the other, in an exact copy of Charles expression.  
“Why do you have to assume she’s a threat?” now Anna rolled her eyes at her husband and her father-in-law.

“Lets be realistic about this” she announced firmly “three werewolves versus a mouthy oblivious slightly nuts foreign kid who is still in her teens” and she shook her head despairingly at the pair of them.   
Charles eyes warmed slightly as they looked at her and she could feel Bran’s almost smile.

“More importantly, why haven’t you opened the parcel she gave you?” she turned to stare at her father-in-law

Before he could answer, they heard a dull thud and a hoarse dry voice coughed and groaned “Buggering hell”. The quiet vehement utterance was more than loud enough for all the Werewolves to hear, and for the moment all their attention was focused on their now conscious “guest”.  
Bran smirked and Charles swallowed an unexpected snort of laughter. Oddly it was Anna that remained impassive this time, a slight frown marring her smooth forehead.

There was a fraught silence again and each one of them could imagine the girl lying on the rug next to her bed where she had fallen off it. Then she began to mutter darkly to herself, of course with the werewolf enhanced senses it meant that all three of them could hear every word clearly.

“Getting up is good Haf, that’s all you have to do is move your legs and your arms” there was a pause as if she tried to do something but nothing happened and then she continued talking to herself, her voice hoarse through the combination of sleep and dehydration.  
“Okay, lying here is fine too, nothing wrong with that, rest is good, and being still is good. Just need a bit of time to think about getting up and get some feeling back into said arms and legs and if I happen to wee on your bloody floor in the meantime then payback’s a bitch you complete and utter gits, and I don’t even care if I get piss on my clothes.” The voice faded into silence again as if even speaking was too hard for her.

“You are so not peeing on my floor you little ….” Anna was amazed at the level of anger she felt and hastily left her food and headed towards to the guest room.   
Charles and Bran looked at each other in surprise but knew better than to make any overt sounds of amusement. Their Anna rarely showed anger and it was not in their best interests to be caught laughing when she did.

As she stood in the doorway, she surveyed the crumbled prone teenager; the curls of her long brown hair were wild and dishevelled and would be a nightmare to brush. Her hair had still been wet from the shower when Anna and Charles had brought her unconscious body to their home.  Her eyes were closed, her lashes lay against dark circles emphasising how pale and weak she looked despite her brave or rather foolish words. Her scent was wrong. She still smelt of the drug they had used on her and it had obviously upset her system because Anna’s sensitive nose could distinguish it from the girl’s natural sleep smell.   
There was sweat on her brow and her fingers were trembling. She looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

Suddenly the anger fled Anna, the kid was in this state because they had drugged her, and Haf didn’t even have the strength to get herself up off the floor.

When she saw a single tear slide down one cheek from underneath those closed almost translucent eyelids, her shame was complete.

She cleared her throat, and the kid started,  Anna could taste the swift fear that almost stilled the girl’s breathing, so she gentled her voice and allowed her omega power to reinforce it, the kid needed a little bit of peace. “Let me help you up?” she asked softly as she moved closer to the girl. 

She could see Haf try to clench her fists but with no success, so she opened her eyes and glared at Anna instead.

“Don’t have much choice do I?” she sniped weakly but Anna ignored it and moved towards her. She could have lifted the kid up in one attempt and put her back on the bed but caution was always the best bet when dealing with “normal” people she didn’t want to give the girl anything more to worry about. She must be frantic enough thinking she had been kidnapped and not knowing what was going to happen to her, although oddly after the initial burst of startled fear, the overriding emotion she could scent from the girl was a kind of pissed off exasperation and determination which fizzed through her nose like heated copper and burnt matches.

The kid was definitely intriguing and if she was related to Bran it was no wonder.

By the time she and Haf had exited the pale green bathroom suite, Anna’s patience was sorely tried. The girl was beginning to regain ownership of her limbs and unfortunately her sarcastic mouth. Although Anna was of the firm opinion that not even a gag would restrain this kid’s determination to make herself heard.

Haf had been relatively quiet when Anna had initially helped her to the bathroom, saving her strength to put effort into actually physically moving, of course the death glares didn’t actually count as speaking, Anna thought wryly.

She had refused point blank to be helped into a shower or the bath, insisting with an evil smirk that she was happy to stink until she could perform the task herself, no really, thanks for asking, by herself, on her own, under her own steam, with no-one else’s so called help, because if she hadn’t been illegally drugged she wouldn’t be in this state now, “getting the picture yet Mrs Abductress, and if that causes anyone a problem, then tough” Haf smiled sweetly but her eyes were furious.

Anna was torn between irritation and amusement, at least the brat had brushed her teeth but then she had sprayed on so much deodorant, that Anna had a sneezing fit which had seemed to give Haf a helping of vicious glee and she deliberately squirted the deodorant again. Anna had just tilted her head and given her the kind of exasperated scolding expression that an adult would give to an unruly 5 year old. Haf had curled her lips in a mocking smirk.

She had walked the kid (half carried her) to the bed and sat her gently down, refusing to give in to the temptation to just dump her back on the floor where she had found her although it would have been immensely satisfying to see her struggle to get up. Maybe it would wear out that mighty motor mouth. Instead she turned to collect some clothes for the girl. She had laundered and dried all the clothing Haf had brought with her and put them away in the wardrobe. The kid was going to be with them for a while, until Bran decided she could leave, so they might as well start as they meant to go on.

She grabbed some underwear, a pair of faded blue jeans, a black tee and a red well won hoodie with the words “Keep calm I’m Welsh” printed across the front.

Whilst Haf was struggling to put the clothes on, Anna went and fetched a pair of thick woollen socks because the girl was still shivering slightly. Werewolves didn’t need the central heating until winter was at its worst, and even then it wasn’t on for long, just to take the chill off, and it wasn’t as if she and Charles often had human “guests”. So they had forgotten to turn up the temperature in the house, and the kid was feeling the cold.

By the time Haf was dressed, Anna could see the kid was exhausted, she sat slumped on the bed, trying to regulate her breathing. Guilt snaked its way once again through the female werewolf’s veins, she wasn’t sure how that snarky sarcastic pain in the butt girl managed to do it because every word that she had uttered since she had woken up  would have rewarded her with some serious punishment if she had been in the care of any other wolf. But the girl seemed unaware to the danger, even dismissing the incredibly scary scowls and growls of Anna’s deadly mate. Dear God had Anna ever been that oblivious and dismissive of danger as a teenage human, she didn’t think so.

She spoke softly “Why don’t you rest here and I will bring you some breakfast?” but she might as well have held her breath because the stubborn little jackass just struggled swaying to her feet with grim determination on her face as she muttered in that singsong voice  
“If I stay in this room much longer the leprechauns will pin me down and paint me green too”

Anna tried her best to scowl at her, Charles liked the different shades and textures of green in this room, she refused to admit that it might be too much of a good thing and that she had been gently working on him for months to dilute the overwhelming greenness of the green spare room.

 

Anna could feel Bran’s amusement in her bones. Dear God she hadn’t known him this relaxed and light-hearted since she had met him. Something about this lunatic kid seemed to appeal to the old wolf, and what was even more surprising was that after Charles first huff of irritation at the kid’s words, she could actually sense her sneaky impassive husband struggle not to laugh.  Had the kid put a spell on them? Seriously what the hell was going on? Although she couldn’t sense anything supernatural about her, was she some sort of disguised fae with a talent for disarming her enemies through laughter and then sacrificing them to ensure her insanely curly hair continued to curl. Oh for the love of just about anything right now, the insanity was infectious. Don’t laugh don’t laugh she scolded herself desperately

She could feel her wolf shake her head in despair at her nonsensical human.

With a resigned sigh she offered the brat her arm and was surprised by the strength with which Haf had used Anna’s help to pull herself properly to her feet. Once she was sure Haf was as stable as possible, she walked Haf to the kitchen, where Bran had created another stack of pancakes and Charles sat at the kitchen breakfast bar, lightly drumming his fingers as he refused to take his gaze away from his father..

Haf tried to look unimpressed at the plentiful breakfast but all three werewolves could smell her hunger and hear her desperate stomach start to gurgle.

“Planning on poisoning me now?” she snarked but couldn’t take her eyes away from the mouth-watering sight in front of her. Bran responded mildly “Well if you don’t want it,” as he motioned to take the dish away but stopped when she hissed at him like an enraged cat

“Touch that plate and I will curse you with bad breath and flatulence for the rest of your days”

Menace flooded the kitchen as Bran’s eyes narrowed and Charles growled in warning, his hands fisting barely hiding his claws. Had they trapped themselves in the same house as a powerful witch? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So taken a long time to update this, but finally got round to it. Having a massive massive writing blast at the moment. I blame Roman soldiers... hmmf yes well never mind.  
> Chapter 4 will be up in a couple of weeks  
> No infringements etc. Just having fun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haf is allergic to dogs.   
> Haf thinks dogs are "nasty smelling face licking bum sniffing ball chasing bloody teeth on legs"  
> Haf starts to sneeze when she hears growling.  
> Haf misses her Gran  
> Haf gets cuddled by criminals

Charles’s protective instincts were at full force as both his beloved wife and father were in the same room as a witch. It was strange that his magic had not sensed hers, normally no witch could hide her power from him and not even his father had considered it. She must be incredibly powerful for one so young. But those accursed bitches could mask their true ages, normally through despicable blood or death magic, though they couldn’t disguise the reek of their foul power from him forever.   
He couldn’t stop himself from growling, low and vicious, a threat of dire retribution whilst his father’s eyes sharpened scarily and his Anna had stiffened with shocked surprise.

Charles couldn’t believe it but the outrage on the kid’s face actually grew at the sound, although her resulting actions were surprising to say the least as she clambered shakily up on to the kitchen stool with alacrity, tucking her stockinged feet under her legs and peering suspiciously over the other side of the kitchen counter. The logical human part of his brain wondered what the hell she was doing, the instinctive predatory mind of brother wolf assessed the threat and made plans.

Her back was vulnerable and open to attack and her down bent neck easily accessible to the swipe of a claw or a quick twist which would end the threat immediately. The temptation for brother wolf was great, he didn’t understand why they were tolerating this insubordinate young one without forcing her submission and if she was a witch she had to die, he prodded at Charles to stop hesitating and just deal with the young female and have it over and done with, prompting Charles to glide with deadly grace closer to the kitchen counter so that he was more comfortably in reach of the girl, whilst ignoring his Anna’s frown. His father didn’t have to move an inch, the girl’s neck was within reach. If his father decided to end it, the child wouldn’t even have time to be afraid. But what the hell was she playing at? What kind of witch left herself open to attack in such a way unless she was waiting to spring a trap?

 

The next words out of the kid’s mouth had Charles seriously questioning his own sanity let alone hers.  
“Have you got dogs?” she accused angrily, the words hissed through the mass of unruly chocolate brown hair hanging down towards the kitchen floor, utterly oblivious to the menacing way the three werewolves were staring at her. She swung her head frantically, her hair slapping her in the face, to search the floor where she assumed the sound of the growling was coming from. She didn’t find any animals starring back up at her and she swung her head back up to glare pointedly at the most dangerous werewolf in the country, if not the entire world.   
Her silver eyes were glinting with insult and barely restrained fury as she continued with the accusation and challenged through gritted teeth.

“You have haven’t you, you’ve got dogs. I bloody hate dogs, nasty smelling face licking bum sniffing ball chasing bloody teeth on legs and I’m allergic to their fur. Typical, not only do you drug me and kidnap me but you also set off my allergies with bloody growling useless fur balls who probably haven’t even been neutered.”

In the bewildered disbelieving silence which seemed to defuse the rising anger,  Charles could feel his jaw dropping as she sneezed rapidly six times, each one progressively louder and more violent, until the last one made the kitchen stool wobble with the force of it.   
It was not a sensation he was familiar with and he was beginning to doubt that he was actually awake. This had to be some sort of bizarre waking dream. How in hell could her allergy be triggered when they didn’t have dogs? He raised his eyes from the sight of the slim fingers of one hand gripping the edge of the counter until they turned white whilst trying to steady the stool to the other hand which was desperately trying to contain the sneezing until he was staring into his father’s equally stunned face. His father looked like he had been hit over the head with a mallet. There was something so utterly surreal about seeing his father the Marrok genuinely lost for words instead of just sneakily getting his wolves to do the talking for him when he wanted to play the harmless young man card.   
He looked at his father blankly, he couldn’t quite get his brain to focus, and for some baffling reason brother wolf had stopped being angry, but had chosen instead to be amused at the insane pup’s behaviour.   
 He heard his father’s bland voice in his head “Did she just call us, call werewolves bum licking teeth on legs?” Charles looked at his father and gave the kind of confused yet aggressive shrug a teenager would have been proud of, not that he had ever done such a thing when he was a teenager. But he truly felt the need to regress today, as he wasn’t sure how else he was going to cope with the mind melting caused by the girl.  
Then his father began to laugh, he leant back weakly against the massive refrigerator and stared at the baffling insanity that was Haf Cornick with helpless delight. Charles stared at him in wonder for a few seconds, he had not seen his father laugh like that for more years than he could remember, carefree and utterly joyous. For that alone, if she was a witch he would make her death painless.   
But he couldn’t help it, and he couldn’t actually stop it, he could feel the laughter bubbling up inside him like an unstoppable eruption, the kid was nuts, absolutely and completely stark staring nuts and unfortunately as funny as hell with it. Though he wasn’t sure if that was a deliberate side effect or not.   
Her jumbled heartfelt words conjured up the image of the Marrok, chasing a brightly coloured ball and then stopping to sniff his own ass and Charles found that he couldn’t hold back the laughter either.   
 Anna looked at her helplessly laughing pack mates for a few seconds and then succumbed and buried her head in her hands as she snorted her amusement inelegantly.

Haf looked at them in disgust, the growling had stopped, she was clinging to the countertop like a limpet, and she had snot all over her fingers from her sneezing bout. Her eyes felt itchy from her allergy and she just knew if she stepped off that blasted stool, some mangy rapid mutt was going to head straight for her crotch. And damn it all she was still hungry, and those pancakes were still there and whimpering her name in desperation. So her laughing kidnappers could go and do something highly improbably with pieces of their anatomy and leave her the hell alone to eat, but first she needed to wash her hands.

She climbed onto the counter again and crawled over to the large sink where she swilled her hands under the hot water tap and dried them on her hoody. No damn way was she getting off the kitchen counter to find anything resembling a towel until those mysteriously growling canines were out of the house. And asking the trinity of tight mouthed tyrants in the kitchen with her for a towel was not actually possible at the moment because damn those dog loving gits were still laughing. Well the big ugly one was sniggering like a sniggerer in a sniggering contest. If that damn man began to chortle she would run away and join the circus. And yes he wasn’t ugly, he was actually quite gorgeous if you took away the need for a personality transplant and the ability to converse without grunting. The other two were laughing so hard it was a wonder they hadn’t spray painted the kitchen green with their snot. For a second she wondered if that was what had happened to the Leprechaun’s fantasy room. Ewww gross, what was she thinking? They were definitely having an unhealthy effect on her higher brain functions. She waited for a few seconds but the hysterical laughter did not seem to be abating. In fact every time they looked at her they seemed to lose it entirely. It was downright insulting, but at least when they were peeing themselves with laughter, they weren’t trying to be menacing.  
For heaven’s sake did they think she had been joking about the dogs?  She had heard that damn growl and if they thought she was getting off the damn kitchen counter to get molested by a damn furry freak then they were as stupid as that damn stupid growling dog that seemed to have vanished into thin air.  
“You lot are seriously mental you know that right, you are definitely missing some marbles from your collection, a sandwich short of a picnic, a tidal wave shot of a shipwreck” she spat at them as she contorted herself to sit cross legged on the counter top and pulled the stack of pancakes towards her with possessive intention.   
She only stopped remarking on their less than stable sanity when the first mouthful of pancake hit her taste buds and she moaned with delight, more interested in the available food than continuing the rant.

Let the wretched dog loving kidnapping nutjobs cackle away to their hearts content. She was going to enjoy her breakfast without having to talk to them. Her stomach was singing her praises as her mouth composed arias to her hands and her throat was giving her medals because her body parts had never been that hungry before, and the delicious food she was shovelling into her body was manna from heaven.

The teenager finally dragged her eyes away from the decimated pile of pancakes and looked up at the fascinated faces of the three other people in the room with her. The laughter had actually stopped and she had been too busy to notice.

“What?” she asked distractedly as she continued to attack the residue of the pancake mound with fanatical relish. She hummed with pleasure and then seeing the smirking expression on the tall one’s face, the one who always looked like he wanted to tear her liver out with his hands and eat it in front of her, she poked her tongue out at him. Still covered in pancake and syrup. And waggled it aggressively. He raised one eyebrow at her unimpressed.   
And all of a sudden, reality came crashing in on her again. She had been drugged and was now held captive in a house full of strangers, who weren’t telling her what was going on. They either laughed at her or scowled at her even if she eventually did get fed but no-one was telling her what was going on. Anger began to jitter under her skin, fighting off fear, but most of all she just felt weary, so very, very weary. She wanted to be home listening to her Grandmother whinge about the state of the world and especially her useless grandchildren, she wanted to smell the familiar aroma of lily of the valley, lemon, tea and chocolate biscuits that permeated her grandmother’s house

She had been living on her nerves for such a long time, since she had attended her Mamgu’s funeral and sat in that irrationally brightly coloured lawyer’s office listening to her grandmother’s insane last will and testament, ignoring the lurking pain and grief whilst she focused on fulfilling her mad old bag of a grandmother’s last wishes and refusing to allow herself to think about how much she missed the cantankerous old woman

Suddenly she was tired again, and depressed and angry and more than a little afraid of these strangers who were supposedly long lost relatives.

She gently put the pancake plate down on to the kitchen counter beside her and drew her knees up to her chest. She didn’t want to talk to them anymore, and she rested her head on her knees, closing her eyes and that was her biggest mistake of the morning, because behind her eyelids the perfect vision of that wicked old woman smiled at her and Haf finally lost it.

She sat on a kitchen counter top in a stranger’s house in a strange land and bawled her eyes out.

The lament whispered through hiccups “you weren’t supposed to leave me you wicked welsh witch, you weren’t supposed to go” banished any lingering desire to laugh in the three observers. It was Bran who got to her first and gently but inexorably pulled the grieving girl to rest against his chest all the while stroking soothing circles into her neck. Anna’s omega instincts had her rubbing gently at her arm, murmuring soft soothing sounds and to Charles surprise, his hand reached out to hold one of her stockinged feet.   
No-one spoke and Haf allowed herself to be comforted, ignoring the inconvenient and intrusive fact that she was being cuddled by a bunch of criminals. She didn’t know how long it took for the tears to dry up, but even when they did, she remained where she was, tucked under Bran’s chin, and staring at the large hand on her foot.

A female hand thrust a piece of kitchen paper towel under her nose and kindly ordered her to blow her nose.  Haf did so with gusto, and the paper towel was removed at haste. Haf’s lips twitched, but she allowed herself the comfort and peace of the peculiar cuddling position for a few moments more, until she drew a deep breath and then straightened. No she didn’t miss the safety or the consolation of being close to these people. She had things to do and places to go, so she needed to get this irrational situation sorted as soon as possible. There was a bright beautiful baking hot beach somewhere out there calling her name.

She raised her head and stared at Bran Cornick, abandoning her distress and tiredness like a wet umbrella in a dry room and asked bluntly.

“So did you kidnap me because of what was in the letter or what was in the parcel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, its been a while. I haven't abandoned the story honestly. My new year resolution is to try to update all my stories within a month of the last chapter. How well that is going to work out I don't know. Little bit of angst in this one and not as long as the others but I loved the idea that Haf could be allergic to weres and she didn't like dogs. Let me know what you think
> 
> As per, no infringement intended. Enjoy


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why hasn't Bran opened the letter and parcel?  
> Haf channels her inner Bart Simpson  
> Haf challenges the Marrok... Wait what?  
> Where is that blasted allergy inducing fleablag?
> 
> It's all greek to Haf...............( Yes the author went there, she has no shame)

There was a disconcerted silence at Haf’s unexpected question. She looked from one to the other in surprise then frowned and shrugged “What?” as she absentmindedly licked some maple syrup from the side of her mouth. Then continued in almost a whine “It was a valid question. It would be nice to know why you meddlesome maniacs think its ok to drug and kidnap me” and her voice became harder as she glared mainly at Charles. He raised an eyebrow at her, that infuriating smirk still on his lips and she could see the amusement in those eyes that were nearly as black as his hair. But he still held on to her foot as if the offering of comfort and causing intense irritation were one and the same thing.

Haf narrowed her eyebrows at him in a full scowl, because she wanted to think up some justifiable and wounding insult that stick it to him painfully but would still leave his hand on her ankle. Hey he had to be good for something and there was something utterly comforting about his hand on her foot even though she wanted to smack him round the head with the pancake plate. “Bite me” she hissed at him and she could have sworn Anna choked on a cough and Bran snorted with laughter whilst Charles’s smirk widened to an unholy grin with super scary shiny teeth, but it eased back to that annoying smirk so fast she almost believed she had imagined that smile.  
Then something occurred to her, the only reason she could think of that they weren’t actually answering her. Not that they had exactly been the least chatty bunch she had ever come across. Great Uncle Ianto and his frankly freakish phobia about the spoken word, including no mobile phones or landlines allowed anywhere near him, and only speaking between 10 am to 10.45am every second Friday of the month to Great Aunt Melvina which she insisted upon or she would not order his regular bottles of Newcastle Brown ale until the next time he actually spoke to her.   
Well Great Uncle Ianto was a bloody motor mouth compared to this lot. God her family was so weird. Of course the long lost branch in America had to be just as strange. No way could she actually have a normal family relationship. Dear God do not get her started on her bloody cousins. Aargh her brain was like a bloody jumping flea lately, back to the point, she had come up with an actual honest to god reason for the non-answers and smirky silence. And really there was only one logical explanation. Ha logical, ha explanation. Her silver eyes were sharp and knowing as she spoke.

“You haven’t opened them yet have you? Why haven’t you opened them yet?” Haf turned to look up at the man still holding her as if it was no big deal, as if he cuddled distraught teenagers every day, no her brain did not want to go down that route, she did not want to think about serial cuddling killers, no, nope, no.  The comfort offered to her still unconditional, and damn it she wasn’t moving anytime soon because she felt more grounded.  Her face was confused and disbelieving, still streaked with tears but her usual defiant expression was back, this time overshadowed by curiosity. 

His old young face was bland but he was totally focused on her, as if she was the most important thing in the world, or his idiot prey, she couldn’t make her mind up but when she looked into those beautiful hazel eyes they seemed to reflect the weight of years of knowledge and experience back at her. She almost winced at how young and vulnerable she felt but she had stubbornness built into her DNA, she might not have been able out stubborn her grandmother, bless her soul, but her Grandmother was a Welsh woman, this poor fool was a transplanted previously owned Welsh man and he should know better than to think he was going to get away with not answering her.   
Not after all the tribulations and grief she had suffered to get the damn things into his elusive hands.   
But for a few seconds uncertainty made her anxious when she felt the power and weight of his gaze, she wanted to duck her head like a shy little kid and tuck her head back against his chest, where he couldn’t look at her with those all-knowing eyes. But she wasn’t having any of it. She had seen off a disgusting growly mutt this morning, even though it had triggered her allergies, and just because it was getting really, really hard to keep looking at Bran Cornick in the eyes, she was not going to give in. He wasn’t scary, no he wasn’t and if she kept saying it she would convince herself. Seriously she was a big girl now and he wasn’t making her feel like she wanted to wee herself if she didn’t drop her gaze right this minute. What would he do to her, more aggressive hugging? No she wasn’t scared, her heart rate wasn’t rising and she wasn’t going to bolt off the kitchen counter and hide in a cupboard. She damn well wasn’t.   
She didn’t care how bloody intractable or mysterious this long lost alleged relative was. Her eyebrows began to raise higher towards her hairline and she ignored the deep breath that the woman drew in or the shocked glance she sent towards the tall lurking smirking lurker with the hair and the big sock holding hands.  She could be just as stubborn as her Grandmother and the old harridan had been legendary for it in the village.  Maybe they should have organised bus trips to see the most stubborn woman in the world. They could have made a fortune.

Her stupid brain again trying to distract her from the feeling of utter doom which was overtaking her the longer she traded glances with Bran Cornick. She wasn’t going to drop her eyes she just wasn’t. But now she could tell that for all his indifference, Bran Cornick was beginning to get a little cheesed off at her so openly staring at him. Well tough tickle, he should just answer her bloody question then.

Haf didn’t realise that by staring so stubbornly into the eyes of the scarily calm man in front of her she was effectively challenging the most powerful werewolf to have ever lived.

Suddenly she yelped and swung her disbelieving gaze to the Giant smirker, “Did you just stab me in the foot you lunatic? That bloody hurt” she spat at him as she lifted the assaulted foot up towards her so that she could see the damage. She rubbed at it resentfully, looking for the blood because it had felt like he had gouged her big toe but there was no red stuff mocking her from her thick sock.

Charles lent forward and took her chin, “Behave Brat” he warned gently with for the first time using the lowest volume of his dominant voice. She had come too close to angering the Marrok and showing such disrespect would not be allowed, amusing and upset pup or not.

Haf’s eyes widened first with a little fear then he could see the way anger and affront rolled right over the fear, it was like watching an unavoidable car crash but there was something tickling at the back of his mind. “Or what you big bully?” the sing song voice challenged as if his own dominant power had just skimmed over her. Before he could respond, she sneezed violently, her eyes closed instinctively, then she sneezed again.    
“Oh for the love of little blue smarties have you let that mutt in again?” she actually whimpered before sneezing violently for the third time.

She was so busy sneezing and dealing with her watering eyes, she didn’t see the way the three werewolves looked at each other, but she did hear Anna utter one word.

What the hell did the twenty fourth letter of the Greek Alphabet have to do with anything? Maybe Omega was the name of that blasted flea ridden four footed menace that kept triggering her allergies.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kidnapped by... a thing, to do a thing, near somewhere, sometime. So that's my justifiable reason for leaving this for a yea... ahem rather a long time. 
> 
> No infringement, especially since I might actually have more of a plot for this now but shush don't jinx it.

**Author's Note:**

> AN:
> 
> Hello, first fanfic for Alpha and Omega. Adore Patricia Briggs books and wanted to try a story in this universe. Also really love her stuff before The Mercy Thompson series, especially Dragon Bones and Blood.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think... thanks xxxx
> 
> Glossary of Welsh words
> 
> Haf means Summer and can be used as a girls name pronounced (Haaav)
> 
> Mamgu - Gran
> 
> Twypsyn – Fool
> 
> Ferched – girl
> 
> Disclaimer: No infringement intended, only having fun playing in the wonderful world of Alpha and Omega.


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